Hard Bargain
by Javanyet
Summary: Nick fails to return from a '20 minute' chat with LaCroix, leaving behind broken hearts and unanswered questions.
1. Chapter 1

Greeting the day alone wasn't anything new to Maura. Though they kept pretty much the same hours, Nick seldom lolled in bed as she did. She'd find him downstairs at his computer or case notebook or on the phone, or else he'd be gone off to the precinct if it was past sunset or to visit with Natalie. No messages or notes were left about, she just knew where he'd gone and knew he'd either pick her up at Raven after closing or call to let her know he wouldn't. But today was different. After interrupting her angry confrontation with LaCroix in the parking lot of Raven the night before, Nick had followed the other vampire into the night to conclude their debate once and for all. LaCroix had persisted relentlessly in his demands that Nick give up his "charade" and move on to travel the world again with him, "above mortality, not aspiring to it. Maura couldn't blame Nick for not letting it drop this time. LaCroix had materialized several times in the five days since Christmas; obviously aware that Nick's relationship with Maura had taken on an added physical connection, annoyingly mortal and undeniably – in LaCroix's mind --threatening to his agenda. He hadn't harmed Maura since that first time, but each visit he paid her was more unpleasant than the last. Sensing his window of opportunity was slamming shut (though Maura couldn't fathom he thought it was open at all) LaCroix had no patience for charm or persuasion. When he showed up last night Nick had absentmindedly left his car keys on the bar, and Maura was waiting by the Caddy for his return. Somehow she wasn't surprised to see the red eyes coming at her from the shadows and the never ending-diatribe begin yet again, without preamble.

"He has known thousands like you, and will know thousands more. This paltry 'life' of yours is an insult to our kind."

Maura rolled her eyes and shrugged. What to do except brush him off? He was like the world's biggest mosquito, in more ways than one. "He seems okay with it. Even Janette says he seems almost at peace now. And _I_ know he's left behind most of the ugly parts of what you made him, and takes on the best parts of mortality that he can manage. Nobody but me will tell him he can have it both ways, but I seem to be enough."

"For a smart woman, you fool yourself too easily. We are joined by blood, Nicholas and I. Mortal emotion pales beside it. What you see as permanent is the blink of our eye, a momentary distraction from an existence you can never share with him."

"I never said 'permanent'. _Nothing_ is permanent. My _life _is the blink of your eye. But my life is all I need, and all he wants to share. Don't forget he's joined by blood to me, as well. Try again when I'm gone, you have the time. But by then you know it'll be too late. Whatever dark is left in him from you will be gone by then. He'll be free for good, no matter what anyone calls him, and he will do and be what he chooses. It's not me you're fighting, it's Nick. Let it go, LaCroix, go and find another protégé to share your dying traditions with. Or come back in fifty years or so, and give it another shot. He'll be easy to find."

LaCroix advanced with a look of utter hatred and rage. She'd seen it before, and knew it was no game, but couldn't manage to be afraid. "You can't hurt me, you can only kill me. And if you do, you'll never have him."

LaCroix stayed the hand that reached for this annoying bitch's throat. How he would have loved to kill her, to remove this distracting pet permanently and thus remove Nicolas' lingering excuse for clinging to his newest incarnation. "He has forgotten his true nature, that's all. I have neglected our connection for too long, and Nicolas has lost his way. He would quickly rejoin me once he again tastes the richness of our former existence."

"Oh yes, the conversion fantasy. He's _misguided_ is all. Like those who want to make him mortal, you think he only needs to pay proper attention to want what you 'offer'. Well there is nothing you have that he didn't have his fill of a and walk away from a hundred years ago. Pathetic, that's what you are. Old and pathetic and on the wane," she gestured over her shoulder. "Janette has done quite well living in two worlds. True, she keeps her vampire nature but has found a place for herself and others of the Community to be safe without needing to be on the run forever. You," she walked a slow circle around the barely-contained vampire, "are an _antique_ in modern couture. Gather dust somewhere else, LaCroix, you won't find what you want here."

The door to the club slammed as Nick approached. "Oh, won't I?" La Croix purred softly. "You know as well as I do, Nicholas can't resist his desperate need to 'do the right thing'... we'll see who will find what, _ma doucette_." His burlesque of Nick's favorite endearment made Maura's skin crawl.

"LaCroix," Nick's voice was flat and cold as the ice under their feet, "come to socialize?" He opened the car door for Maura, but she didn't move. LaCroix kept his eyes on her as he spoke.

"I've come to discuss this difficult juncture in our relationship, Nicholas. I think perhaps instead of persuading you to embrace our former friendship I am driving you further away. I realize now I have been guilty of some... excesses."

"Even if you had anything to say that remotely interested me, now is hardly the time." He gently pushed Maura into the Caddy and shut the door before turning back to LaCroix.

"Your Maura isn't afraid of me," and LaCroix's first use of her proper name triggered an alarm in Maura. "Why should _you _be?"

Nick laughed. "Afraid, don't flatter yourself."

"I _mean_," LaCroix cajoled, "afraid of listening to what I have to say. Afraid it might make sense. Afraid you might once again long for the part of yourself you can't _quite_ shed. That perhaps you don't _want _to."

Nick tried to push past as he rolled his eyes. "Save it, it's been a long night."

The older vampire seized Nick by the shoulder, who shook him off with a hiss and a drop of fangs.

"See how easy it is?" LaCroix observed mildly. "Always there, just beneath the skin." Now he turned both hands palm up, as if in supplication. "Nicholas, please, I thought perhaps with so much of your new life in order you might be in sufficient good mood to talk one last time."

Nick paused on his way to the driver's side door. "'Last' time?" His eyes narrowed.

Inside the car, Maura tensed. LaCroix was laying the snare.

"I'm weary of the endless battle royale, Nicholas, I am weary of thrashing each other into the walls. If I cannot persuade you with my arguments this one last time, I will set you free forever."

Don't believe him, he is a lying sack of ancient shit, Maura desperately tried to beam her thoughts to Nick. She could tell by the look on his face he was tempted to comply. No, no, even a nanosecond of hesitation and LaCroix would own him, because he was right. Nick would have to do the "right" thing, the single attraction he was powerless to resist.

The two of them took a step away, LaCroix's hand now resting companionably on Nick's shoulder. After a moment, Nick tapped on the window and Maura wound it down.

"Just a few minutes, okay? Then we can go home." He responded to her look of dismayed disbelief. "It's not as if he never did _anything_ for me, Maura. We have saved each other, he and I and Janette, a thousand times and experienced things together you can't imagine. That deserves at least a final word."

"Oh, Bats…" She knew arguing wouldn't make a dent, so she simply pleaded with him, keeping one eye on the smiling LaCroix. "Don't do it, _please_, just this once I'm asking you to trust me and walk away from being 'reasonable'. Just once, Nick, be unreasonable and do the wrong thing, for me. I'm _begging_ you."

Nick smiled patiently, squeezed her hand where she gripped his wrist with desperate strength. "C'mon, Sweet, this isn't like you. Don't let him scare you, there's nothing going to happen." He leaned in the window and gave her a kiss. "Gimme twenty minutes. Go back inside and keep warm, I'll come back for you." And he walked with LaCroix until they disappeared into the dark. That had been at about 2am.

By 3am Miklos and Vachon had cleaned up and closed up the bar, and the front doors were locked. Nick hadn't returned.

"Vachon, will you please see Maura home in that charming voiture of yours? Nicolas will receive a suitably stern answer to his tardiness when he returns."

Maura asked her remaining coworkers, "Are you all _sure_ Nick didn't call? Maybe the message machine is screwed up."

Janette put a hand on her arm. "Cherie, trust me, I know these two very well. LaCroix is exceedingly long-winded, and Nicolas would allow him to use up his last word in hopes of being rid of him." Privately, she was curious. It was odd of him to neglect his responsibilities, and he considered his relationship with Maura to be a primary one.

"I dunno, it just feels _weird_," Maura told them uncertainly.

Miklos gestured around the empty club with an ironic laugh. "If it weren't for 'weird', we'd be out of business."

So she let Vachon take her home. The message light wasn't blinking when she got in the loft, but she found a single red rose on the table next to the machine. The note on Nick's monogrammed linen stationery was in French, in Nick's unmistakably elegant hand. "_N'oublies jamais que je t'aime_." What the hell... she felt a cold core of nausea in the pit of her stomach.

"Never forget I love you," she repeated to Janette in English, and the voice on the other end of the phone betrayed just a hint of confusion.

"But cherie, what could be wrong with that?"

"Oh for christsake, Janette, you _know_ we're not like that! No cutesy little love notes left around, none of the romance novel crap."

"Just fully decorated Christmas trees, and heartfelt love songs, eh?"

Maura's voice went flat. "You know what I mean. Something is going on here, we both know this is just _not Nick_. And why would he come all the way home just to leave me a note?"

A second's silence. "D'accord. Yes, it is unusual. But nothing is _usual_ where LaCroix is concerned. You cannot expect to predict Nicolas' reaction to him when even he cannot."

"Has he talked to you about this? Nick, I mean, has he said anything that might clue me in even now about what's going on?"

"No, he has not even mentioned LaCroix's name since his last appearance."

"Yeah, right."

Janette reacted sharply to the obvious sarcasm. "Maura, do not insult me. I have been connected to Nicolas for _eight hundred years_, and I know the heart you say he believes he does not have. No matter if I understand it or not, he loves you more than any chance he has to be rid of the past that torments him. And for that reason alone I would never mislead you. And I am _disappointed_," the word was heavy with extra meaning, "that you believe he would ask me to do so, and that I _would_ do so even if he did."

Maura's response would have been inaudible to a mortal, but Janette heard its undertone of misery. "I'm sorry. I know, I do. I didn't mean it that way."

"I confess, I am mystified by this too. But unlike you I have had centuries to become unsurprised by the surprising. In our time Nicolas and LaCroix were wont to disappear for many nights at a time, debating and arguing like father and son."

"It's not the _nights_ that worry me." What if something had happened, something that would keep Nick from shelter? What if LaCroix, unable to persuade him, simply locked him out after sunrise?

"Perhaps you are right. Perhaps you should go to the police precinct and talk to Mr. Schanke about this. And I will see what information is to be had from the Community. D'accord?"

"D'accord. Thank you, Janette. It could be just as you say. He could show up by sunrise all apologetic and guilt-ridden,"

"He is very accomplished at guilt, cherie. Possibly you will gain some more roses from this."

"Maybe. Okay I'll be in touch."

"Bonsoir, cherie."

As Janette switched off her phone, her brow knit in consternation. This was so entirely out of character for Nicolas' current "persona". She couldn't imagine what would persuade him not to bother letting her, or Maura, or anyone else know he was safe. She hadn't even sensed LaCroix nearby tonight, and that meant he was deliberately masking himself from her.

"Miklos! When Vachon returns please join him and visit with some of our friends. See if they might know what Lucien LaCroix is up to, and where Nicolas might be."

Maura spent the rest of the day at the loft, desperately willing the phone to ring. By the time she got to the precinct the next evening, she hadn't eaten in 24 hours and hadn't slept for nearly 40. She was dressed in worn out jeans and a faded sweatshirt, her hair unwashed and her face strained. The detectives in Nick and Schanke's new "shop" regarded her as if she was some street snitch or worse.

"Yeah? What'll it be?" asked one.

"I'm looking for Detective Schanke. Where can I find him?" She looked around uncertainly. She'd only been to this precinct once, to meet Nick after work, since he and Schanke had gotten transferred, and she didn't recognize anyone.

"Payoffs are Tuesdays, honey. Come back tomorrow."

She took a step toward the little shit, and repeated herself as if to a mental deficient. "I _said_, I'm looking for Detective Schanke. _Where_ can I find him?"

Another wiseass pulled out his wallet. "Here I can let ya have five until he gets back." She whirled on him in a rage, not caring that she looked more like a suspect than anything else, but before she could make a move or open her mouth, Schanke loped into the office.

"Hey Schank, this 'lady' is looking for you," said the first detective who'd spoken. "I told her payoffs are tomorrow."

Schanke's surprise at seeing Maura was trumped by his anger. "Shut up, junior, this lady is a friend of mine." Just then a records officer Maura recognized came in bearing a stack of folders. Janey, Maura seemed to remember. She'd run into her on the street once or twice.

"Hey, Maura, how's it going?" She took a closer look. "Are you okay? You don't look so good."

"You know this snitch?" asked smartass detective #2.

"She's Knight's girlfriend, you moron. Here's the files you wanted," she flung them on his desk in disgust. "Call me if you need help with the big words."

By this time Schanke was standing by Maura looking very concerned. "She's right, sweetheart, you look like hell. What's up? I thought you and Nick were gone west on vacation."

Maura's mouth dropped open. "_What?_ Did Nick talk to you about going away?"

Schanke put an arm around her and took her to an interview room, "Come on, let's talk away from the zoo okay?"

The door had barely shut when she was in his face. "What the _hell_ are you talking about, Nick and me going 'west on vacation'?"

He gestured cluelessly. "Nick called in this morning and said that he was gonna take some of his transferred vacation time and was headed out west for some R & R. I figured he meant both of you." His expression became sympathetically confidential. "You two have a tiff? You seemed pretty tight to me."

Maura paced wildly and nearly shouted, "No Schank we didn't have a fucking _'tiff'_! He went off with... an old friend just after the club closed last night and never came back to take me home. And he didn't come back today either. And he hasn't called, not me or any of his friends. Apparently he _did_ call work, though."

"Well, yeah, if he just didn't show up he could lose his job." The stupidity of the statement hit him when Maura looked as if she'd been slapped.

"His job. Yeah, he wouldn't wanna lose that, would he."

"So this friend, male or female?" Schanke was feeling a little out of his depth and so reverted to detective mode. Bad choice.

"_Male_," she sneered. "Someone he's known forever, they had a falling out and the guy seemed to want to patch things up. Not much gossip potential, I'm afraid."

He guided her to sit down at the table. "Come on, I didn't mean it that way. I gotta wonder what's up, too. Did he seem interested in patching it up with this old friend?"

She shook her head bitterly. "More than he should have been. This guy has been in _my_ face for a while, trying to persuade me to leave Nick so they could return to the wild boy days."

"Think he has a 'thing' for him?"

Maura laughed at how right he was, but explained, "Not the way you think. He was a mentor, almost a father, and so there's that father-son crap and not wanting to let go, and _really_ not wanting to see Nick succeed where he doesn't think he should be."

"So you think maybe he abducted him?"

She shook her head. "I dunno, probably not by force if you know what I mean. But shit, Schank, you know how Nick is, always wanting to be '_reasonable'_."

Nick's partner shook his head with a knowing smile. "You know I'd hoped maybe you could help him with that. I meant that in a _good_ way, " he hastened to add.

"Yeah well, I'd hoped maybe I could convince him just once to _stop_ listening. But he went off with the guy, and next thing I knew I'd gotten a ride home and found this note next to the phone." She handed it to Schanke, not really sure what she expected him to make of it.

"Uh, real classy, but what does it say?" Like some of her vampire friends, she tended to assume everyone was multi-lingual.

"It's French."

"Well I figured out that part."

"Sorry. It says 'never forget I love you'."

"You find anything else?"

"A single red rose, with the note."

"Whatta guy." He stared at the note for a minute and ventured, "Look Maura, no offense or anything, but we both know that for all his channeling Byron crap your man is not exactly the soul of everyday romance. So this is a little out of character wouldn't you say?"

"Exactly!" She almost came out of her chair. "Janette doesn't want to listen, but that's it exactly!"

He studied her a moment, knowing something was missing. "So why do I get the feeling you have some idea what it means?"

"Never forget," she murmured almost to herself. "That's what gets to me. I mean, he's all the time saying 'I love you', all the time telling me what I mean to him, like saying good morning, so casual it's like breathing." Schanke shifted a little uncomfortably, feeling like a voyeur (and for once not enjoying the view), but he didn't interrupt. "But 'never forget', and the rose, it means more."

"What about the rose? Aside from the fact that I've never noticed him showering you with flowers."

"It's a special kind." She hadn't actually admitted it to herself before now. "It's imported, very rare, French." Schanke rolled his eyes, of course. "It's called 'La Vie Sans Fin', Life Without End. It's self preserving, once it's cut it never fades, never dies." She left out the unique horticultural fact that it was grown sanguineponically, by a vampire botanist, fed on nothing but immortal blood. Finally she looked Schanke in the eye, struggling against panic. "I think he was saying goodbye, Donnie. I think maybe he's not coming back." Her hands were shaking.

"Hey, hey now, I think we know him better than that," Schanke declared. "The man lights up like that Christmas tree he made for you at the mere mention of your name. Come on, Maura, I think you know he didn't just want 'out'. Guys who wanna break up with their girlfriends don't usually ditch work too. Let me ask around, see if Nick didn't mention something to anyone else, okay?" Maura wasn't quite focusing on him, so he took her hands and gave them a shake. "_Hey_. Don't go all strange on me like he does. We'll find out where your prodigal man is, and when we do he'll have more than you to deal with believe me. I don't appreciate being left holding the body bag." He hoped his admittedly lame black humor might calm her down a little. Maura nodded uncertainly, trying to return Schanke's reassuring smile. As usual he didn't have the whole picture, and as usual he just couldn't be told.

Maura got up and headed for the door. "Thanks, Schank. I'm gonna go talk to Natalie, see if she knows anything."

"Good idea. I'll be in touch. And try not worry _too_ much, okay?"

He was so sweetly concerned, Maura had to smile. "Okay. I'll do my best."

A week went by. Natalie had had little to offer in the way of insight, and naturally she was worried and upset as well.

"I know, it's just not like him to do this. It doesn't matter what Janette says, he isn't the same as he was so long ago." Finally their respective attachment to Nick was making them allies, but nobody wanted it to happen this way.

"Natalie, I know you have some trouble about Nick and me, and I'm really sorry. I never wanted to hurt anyone he cares about, I hope you believe that." For some reason Maura felt she had to explain herself to everyone. Natalie's expression was a bit pained, but kind nonetheless.

"Nobody planned any of this. I'd say I can imagine what you're going through right now, but it wouldn't be true would it? You are in such a different place with Nick than I am. I'm worried about my best friend, but you guys..."

"I'm missing part of myself. I can hardly believe I'm saying that, it sounds so weak. But what's the point in lying about it. I feel like I'm bleeding from a small precise wound, a little more every day."

"You're not weak, Maura, you love him. You have a life with him, one neither one of you expected. It's not weakness to be afraid of losing it. And I have a life with him that's taken too much effort and emotional investment to abandon so easily." The despair on Maura's face was so profound that Natalie had to gather her in a tight hug. "We'll find him, for both of us. We will. And when we do, believe me he's gonna regret he can't die."

Maura gave a bitter laugh. "If he only knew the growing line of pissed off people he'll be confronted by..."

But now it was a week later, and no word. Schanke had told Maura that Nick had at least a month of accumulated vacation time he'd never taken. Though technically not to extend it officially would make him AWOL after that, his long service and commendations might allow him to slide on that score. It wasn't a comforting piece of news.

Maura continued to work as usual, trying to ignore the sympathetic glances of her coworkers, giving up on asking Janette or Miklos or Vachon if they'd heard anything. When a month had gone by, she couldn't stop herself from begging for anything Janette might be thinking.

"LaCroix is deliberately hiding from us," Janette explained, "there is nothing we can do but wait for him to reveal himself again. In 800 years, cherie, a month or so isn't so very long." She was trying to reassure her friend, but knew the words rang hollow to a mortal, even one with Maura's understanding.

"I'll keep that in mind," she'd responded flatly. She hadn't been sleeping very well. After just a week she had finally moved to the sofa, unable to bear spending long nights alone in Nick's tremendous bed. Any doubts about the length of his intended absence were dispelled when she rang the butcher to find out why his monthly delivery of cow's blood hadn't arrived on schedule.

"Well Mr. Knight, he said not to deliver until he got back to me. Said he didn't know how long he'd be away." The man was obviously confused that she didn't know about the arrangement. So even the butcher knew. But not her. When she called the electric and gas companies, concerned about payments (and wondering how she'd manage it on her salary) she was told that the accounts held considerable credit balances, paid by Mr. Knight's attorney some weeks ago. Based on established usage, she would not have to concern herself for at least a year.

Then the letter came from the attorney, the far-flung unpronounceable name who was only a name to her. It informed her in very legal language that "henceforth from this date" she had full and legal access to the "funds and fortunes" of Nicholas D. B. Knight, and the financial and legal services performed for that client now applied equally to her. It was not a bequest, but an addition of her to the rights of legal ownership. Enclosed in the package were a bank debit card and a platinum credit card (to be paid by direct debit, she was informed), a check book and five hundred checks featuring her name printed beneath Nick's. His "funds and fortunes", she knew, amounted to a couple hundred million dollars.

Five weeks. She'd spent a few nights at the Schanke household, at his and Myra's insistence.

"Come on, honey, you're not sleeping, you're not eating, you look like hell. Come enjoy gracious living for a few days, okay?" Since Janette had given her some enforced time off after she'd physically attacked an unruly customer, she reluctantly agreed. It wasn't an easy few days. Accustomed to being on her own a great deal, Maura didn't interact much with her hosts, staying in the guest room until summoned for meals she had to force herself to eat. Myra tried hard to get her to talk about what she was going through, but Maura just couldn't find the words to define it. "It's so far beyond what would ever make sense to you," she told Myra one evening. That was the utter truth, but Myra took it in mortal terms. "Whenever you need to, you know where I am. I really do understand. ." No you don't, Maura thought. Nobody does.

Her conversations with Natalie were nothing short of torture, for both of them. She had hoped that the different sort of link between Nick and Natalie would offer some clue, but there was nothing. Natalie was frankly shocked at the sight of Maura in her lab, ten days or so after Nick's disappearance. She'd expected to hear from her sooner, but to see how far she was coming apart was unexpected. Maura had always seemed to Natalie to be the quintessential survivor, strong and resolute with a razor sharp sense of self-preservation. If sometimes rather a bitch. What Natalie saw standing before her was a textbook image of someone who has lost everything that mattered to her.

"You would have told me," she began but Natalie cut her off. Though the implication was insulting, she couldn't manage to be offended. "Of course. Just like you'd have told me." Natalie was enduring her own pain, of course.

"I'm not here to play my heart's more broken than yours," Maura assured her. "There's no hierarchy in this kind of shit."

"You're right there. He's walked out on all of us." There was a bitter edge in her voice. It was evident in every one of Nick's friends and colleagues, that "wait'll I get my hands on that bastard" sound. Maura wished she could even fake it, but all that she could muster was that disgusting depressed monotone. She hated herself like this, and continued the thought out loud.

"I never imagined I'd come to this, you know? All the shit I've been through, all the times I've been left twisting in the wind. It wore me out, but in the end it was just time to get up and walk. I hate being this way, Natalie, I hate being forced to admit that I'm so dependent on someone else that I can fall apart without him. I've always felt that sort of weakness pretty amusing in others, not to mention disgusting. But here I am. One person gone, and I've been drained empty of everything."

"I guess the difference now is that this time someone's making sure you don't suffer for his lousy decisions." She meant the financial support, of course, but this triggered a brief flash of resentment in Maura.

"Oh, right, no _suffering _here. The bills are paid until the next ice age, and I can empty his fucking bank account if I want and no complaints. Do you know what it feels like to see my name under his on the checkbook, on his financial papers?" Natalie remained silent. "It's like now we're _married_ but only because he _left_!" She shook her head wildly. "That's _sick_ Natalie. Leave me with nothing, okay, like everyone else did, but now I'm left with less than nothing because I'm the financial dependent of someone I never wanted _anything_ from! I contacted that lawyer and said no, take my name off of everything, I don't want 'Mr. Nicholas D. B. Knight's' fucking charity. You know what he told me? I don't have _authorization_ to do that. I own everything he does, I can spend every dime if I want, but I don't have the power to say _no_. It's like he's made certain I can never get past this."

Natalie was shaking her head, the implication of the situation not lost on her. "I don't know what to say, Maura. Everything I know about Nick says he has to have some reason, but everything I know about him also says he'd tell us what it is. You know, he has people on his payroll who can trace things, history, people, find out where they are. He hasn't used them for a long time, but you never know."

"Well I guess it doesn't surprise me. Like everything else, he wants it both ways. He wants to be a vampire, but he wants to be mortal, and he won't accept a balance of anything will he? He wants to be gone, but he wants _me_ to be found. He wants to _love_ me, but he wants not to have to."

"There's one thing I know, I _accept_, about Nick as a given, that you've never been able to. It's that he's not about indecision, but about doubt. Except for his work he's never sure he's making the right judgment, so he hesitates to commit to anything before a long, hard debate with himself. And the final decision is always his, no matter how he pretends to listen."

Maura tried to disagree. "But he commits all the time. He committed to his life here, to his job, to you. To me."

Natalie's smile was equal parts irony and sadness. "Sure he did." And in that moment Natalie knew that the reason that she could cope with the potential loss of the man she would have spent her life with was that she accepted his self-doubt as an unshakeable part of him. He listened to himself so exclusively that he could be here, or gone, at any time at all depending upon his most recent doubt. The seismic shock Nick's exit was putting Maura through was because she never had any doubts at all, and simply believed the same of him. Seeing the pain in Maura's face increase exponentially as she absorbed the same knowledge, Natalie reached out and held her shoulders firmly, looking into her eyes. "He doesn't doubt he loves you, nobody knows that better than me. But everything else is in question, all the time, and that will probably never change. I've been hoping he'd learn not to act on it, but even that may be asking for too much. And it may be why it was so easy for LaCroix to lead him away. He knows Nick better than any of us, so he knows how to play him perfectly."

Maura stepped back, remembering. "He said that to me that night, just as Nick came out of the club. He told me Nick couldn't resist his 'desperate need to do the right thing'. And Nick told me himself, that his history with LaCroix deserved a final word, something like that." She gestured wildly. "Shit, I _knew_ what he was up to, I begged Nick to ignore him and come home, just once not to _listen_, to ignore the 'right thing' for once. But he is, he's so full of doubt he can believe almost anything if he thinks he's being unreasonable." This made it clearer, but not easier. "Thanks, Natalie. You're the one person I've talked to who's given me something to go on." Her excitement over learning where Nick was and why was immediately overcome by the question that was ruining her. "I just wish I knew why he can't tell us."

"That makes two of us."

"But this is my home now. I don't _want_ to leave, even for a little while. You know I don't really belong with those other people, not all the time anyway." Maura was in Janette's office, desperately trying to keep her job. "Come _on,_ Janette, how can you fire me especially now?"

Janette took her hands, but she was firm, "Maura, cherie, you cannot work here in your current state. Your behavior is erratic, and you could bring attention from the authorities of the _wrong_ kind. Please understand. I am not 'firing' you, I am giving you time off, with pay, as long as you need to settle yourself. You are welcome here as a guest, and will always be. But until you bring your emotions under control, you are a danger to us, and to yourself." The Enforcers, always on the watch for a reason to be rid of her. Though bound by strict codes, they were as prey to personal vendetta as anyone else in or out of the Community, and would be glad for a valid reason to do away with her.

"Is this what he was after? To punish me by shutting me out of my own life?"

An unfamiliar look of earnest sympathy replaced Janette's usual detached expression. "Cherie," she leaned forward, her face almost touching Maura's, "you must believe me, I would tell you if I knew. If I knew _anything_. We have questioned our friends, I have even spoken to Aristotle. Nothing, there is nothing to tell. And believe me, there is nothing for anyone to gain from your suffering."

"Well maybe not quite anyone," Maura observed. Janette handed her a debit card for a local bank featuring the name "Cherie Gardeur". This was a shock; Janette simply did not trust banks.

"I have put some money in an account for you, it should last for some time. If it runs out I will continue to pay you every week." she explained, adding with obvious distaste, "It was in preposterously bad taste for Nicolas to expect you to take his charity. And since he has abdicated his responsibility to you, he has also forsaken his right to find you when he decides he is ready. From now on the decision will be yours." So, Maura thought, Janette did understand. "The pin code is 'jamaisplus'."

Maura had to smile. "Quoth the Raven."

Janette smiled in turn. "D'accord. I created a name for you that Nicolas will not be able to trace easily." Cherie Gardeur translated "Dear Guardian". Janette was nothing if not clever. Now she handed an envelope to Maura. "Here is a list of some of our associates in Vancouver, New York City, Boston and some other cities in Europe. They will be expecting you if you decide to contact them; you may trust them as you trust me. If you go elsewhere, let me know and I will give you more names."

"Janette, you don't have to do any of this."

"I can no longer pretend to guess what Nicolas might be thinking, or what mistaken path LaCroix might be leading him down. But it is wrong for you to pay for it."

Maura felt perilously close to tears for the first time since all this began. It simply had been playing out as too unreal to respond to beyond a deep numb shock, but now she realized how attached to this life and Community she'd become, quite apart from Nick. "Janette, please, it's not that I'm not grateful, but please don't make me leave."

The firmness returned to Janette's voice. "Maura, you have found protection here. I am afraid the time has come to repay it in kind."

Maura rose and Janette followed her across the empty club floor. "But where's Vachon? I want to say goodbye..."

Janette continued to usher her to the door. "Vachon knows," she said, not unkindly, "and he and the others wished not to make this harder for you." Seeing Maura's stricken expression she added with a smile, "We are _immortals_, cherie, and our world is full of comings and goings, and no one can predict which will come upon which. You cannot travel far enough to leave the Community behind." At the door the usual kiss of parting was augmented by a surprisingly warm hug. "Á bientôt, cherie. I have no doubt we will meet again."

The sun was rising as Maura stepped onto the sidewalk. Hearing the door bolt behind her caused a physical pain she hadn't expected. She hailed a cab and went back to the loft.

"I'm gonna try some time back in Boston, it's been a long time. And it's where I'm from, after all." She'd come to the lab to leave Nick's car and loft keys with Natalie. "The apartment and garage are free and clear, I don't know if you knew that. Utilities and heat are paid for at least a year in advance, and I set and locked the thermostat and have the blinds and a few lights set on timers to discourage vandals."

Natalie wasn't quite believing all of this. "What about Nick's stuff?" Art work, music, movie collection, his original paintings and antique instruments were worth a fortune.

"The alarm codes are inside the key tag there," Maura indicated. "Don't worry, everything's there."

She frowned. "I wasn't 'worried', Maura."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way, I meant for insurance and stuff."

"So is this a taking-a-break thing, or what?"

"Janette has me on leave from work as a defensive measure. I was 'acting out' a bit on the customers. I can't blame her, even a mortal club couldn't have a troublemaking security manager. She gave me a list of contacts for various cities in case I need anything."

"'Contacts'?"

"You know, the Community, like that."

"Oh yeah. Could come in handy, I guess."

Maura reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope containing the checkbook, debit card, and platinum card Nick's lawyer had sent her. "Here. I won't be needing these. Janette set me up an account under a different name, and I have the debit card for that."

Natalie looked inside and the impact of seeing Maura's and Nick's names together was evident. "Wow. I see what you meant by 'sick'. But what do I do with them?"

"Just keep them safe, I guess. And if he ever shows up again, give 'em back."

"Before or after I drive the stake through him?" Natalie muttered darkly.

"Your choice." She gave Natalie a quick hug. "Look, I know things with us have usually been, uh, 'problematic', but I know what you mean to Nick."

"Yeah, about like I know what you mean to him. About enough to ignore us both. But really, what should I tell him when he gets back? You _know_ he will."

"Tell him I've 'gone west on vacation'. After all he deserves the same consideration he gave all of us. Well I've got a lift from an 'associate' of Janette's later tonight, so I won't be seeing you again."

Natalie looked worried. "But it's nearly new moon, can you trust him?"

Maura laughed. "Believe me, he fears her more than he'll want me. Things are different now with that situation, now I have a whole Community looking out for me thanks to Janette. She has way more power than even I suspected."

"I guess she'd consider it vulgar to show it off."

"Yeah, lucky me. See ya."

She was halfway out the door when Natalie stopped her with, "So you said goodbye to Schanke already?"

She didn't turn around. "Uh, no." Then she turned and asked hopefully, "Natalie could you? You know how excitable he is, I don't want to upset him."

Natalie was shaking her head firmly. "No-no-no-no. Of Nick's 'inner circle' I think maybe poor Schanke is suffering the most, because he understands the least. He really is fond of you, Maura, and you'd break his heart if you just left without a word." Before Maura could protest she added, "And I think Nick's broken enough hearts around here on his own, don't you?"

"Right. And Natalie, do me a favor will you?"

"Name it."

"Don't tell Nick where I've gone. If he wants to find me... yeah, right... he's gonna have to play detective."

"No problem. I'd say he's given up his right to that information."

So Maura sat in Schanke's chair, trying hard to ignore Nick's name plate on the adjacent desk. Captain Cohen paused on the way from her office.

"Maura, are you waiting for Detective Schanke?"

"Uh-huh. Do you know where he is?"

"He's interviewing a witness with O'Brien." Seeing her confusion she added, "Knight's sub."

"Oh."

"I don't suppose you've heard from Detective Knight?" Maura could tell the question wasn't easy for her.

"No, I haven't."

"Well, his time off officially runs out next Wednesday, so the mystery should be solved by then."

"Sure. Thanks, Captain."

Schanke blustered in with a very young detective in tow.

"Hey, Maura! This here's Bill O'Brien, the space-filler til Nick gets back." She stood and shook the young man's hand.

"Donnie, you got a minute?"

"Uh-oh," he turned to the "space-filler", "when my partner's partner calls me 'Donnie' that means trouble. Be right back. Try not to screw anything up while I'm gone."

Schanke followed her into an interrogation room and shut the door. "So? What's up?"

"I'm leaving town for a while. Maybe for a long while."

He was alarmed. "Huh? But what about when Nick comes back?"

Her voice grew so hard she could scarcely recognize it. "What about it? Five weeks with no word, to me anyway though he'd managed to cover his ass with about everyone else. I'd say I'm past caring."

"Excuse me, but I don't believe it."

"Then I'll believe it for both of us. I gave all my keys and the keys to the Caddy to Natalie. Janette has fronted me some traveling cash and given me some contacts to help set me up."

"But I thought Nick took care of you..."

"He took care of me all right, but I don't want his fucking money." Suddenly the hard edge crumbled. "I never wanted his _money_, Donnie, and I still don't. I don't want his roses or his notes or the eternal vigilance of his financial advisor. All I ever wanted was _him_, and the life together we managed to jerry-rig out of good intentions and spare parts."

Schanke advanced a step and put his hand on her shoulder. "I know it's been hard for you."

"Do you really? Well maybe you can requisition a 'space-filler' for me too, for the space on the sofa and the space at the table and the space in the bed." She gulped back tears and shook off Schanke's comforting hand. "I'm suddenly lousy with _space_. You gotta understand," she clutched his sleeve, "I need to go somewhere I can lose this fucking _space _and quit waiting for someone who didn't even care enough to tell me the lies he told everyone else."

"He left you that note."

"_Fuck_ 'that note', Schanke. Notes are _easy_. Dealing with things is hard. And I just can't _deal_ any more, okay? So I'm taking Janette's largesse and running. Shit, even if Nick showed up right now I'm afraid I'd of what I'd do to him."

"Whatever it was, I'd hold him down for you," Schanke offered grimly. He was keenly aware of the pain and trouble his partner had caused everyone, including himself. "I know it doesn't mean much from where you're standing but he's drilled us all full of holes. He's not getting any welcome home parties when he does show up. You wouldn't be on your own with it…"

"Thanks, I'll keep it in mind. But I gotta go, and I'm saying goodbye because you should be treated like you matter by at least one half of this fucked up equation."

"Where will you be? When are you leaving?"

"Friend of Janette's giving me a lift in a couple hours. I don't know where I'll end up," she felt lousy about lying, but the fewer that knew the better, "but really I'll call you, I promise. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"If Nick wants to find me... he needs to _work_ for it, you know? So when I get in touch it's gonna have to be one-way, and you won't know where I am."

Schanke was shaking his head, obviously distressed. "Man, how did this all happen anyway? What the hell is he _thinking_?"

"Maybe he'll tell you when he gets back. He sure as shit won't be telling me."


	2. Chapter 2

A vampire named Sturn drove Maura straight through from Toronto to Boston by 5am. Instead of dropping her at a hotel as she requested, he took her to a brownstone in the Back Bay. "Janette's orders, sorry. Guy's name is Anton, he runs a club in Kenmore where you can get work. He's one of us. He's expecting you." Sturn carried her bags up the short stoop to the door and leaned on the bell. A tall, forbidding looking man answered the door. Dark eyes, long black hair and a full beard, he stood well over six feet tall.

"Here's your package, man. Don't forget to call Janette. Good luck, Cherie."

"Maura, my name is Maura."

"Not anymore," Sturn shot back as he got in the car and drove off.

"Welcome," Anton told her as he ushered her in. "Come in, get settled. But first call Janette, she's waiting to hear you made it."

Feeling like she was trapped in witness protection, Maura dialed Raven on the cell phone that was handed to her.

"Ah, cherie, you've arrived already. Anton will be your host for as long as you require, and he has agreed to employ you as well, if you wish. I didn't feel it was wise for you to be wandering the streets the night before the new moon."

"Thanks, I guess, but this changing my name stuff is a little over the top. I mean it's fine on the card, to avoid the obvious paper trail, but it's not like I'm on the lam or anything."

"Perhaps I'm mistaken, then, and your signature need not match the name on your financial records?" Her tone said she knew very well she wasn't mistaken.

"Oh yeah, right. Well call me Snow White if you want, I'm here and everyone's done their jobs. D'accord?"

"D'accord, cherie. Bonsoir."

Maura switched off the phone and took a look around. Her host had disappeared for the moment. The ground floor was elegant in a subdued way, with a baby grand piano in the foyer and comfortable looking furniture in the living room. The dining room was rather old-fashioned but welcoming. Anton returned with a pot of tea, which looked rather odd in the hands of such a large dark person.

"Join me in the front room." She hadn't heard it referred to as "the front room" in ages. Once there she looked out the tall bay window at the near-absence of moon, then cast a somewhat nervous eye at her host.

"Anton? Janette did tell you about my, uh, 'condition', didn't she?"

The dark face broke into a surprisingly winning smile. "Don't worry, I'm one of the ancients." That addressed her concerns immediately. The vampires who had surpassed 1000 years or so didn't seem much taken with her "condition". Her blood had the same effect on them as any other vampire, but the pheromone had little attractive power. "I came across in Imperial Rome. With age comes discretion, and self control. And there are no guests this weekend to bother you."

"Guests?" She looked around. "This isn't a B&B is it?"

His laugh reassured her further. "No, just a sort of safe house for fellow travelers."

"Safe for me too?"

"Oh yes. With age also comes power." He was pouring the tea, but Maura stopped him.

"If you don't mind, do you have anything harder? It's been a rugged day."

"Jack rocks, right? Janette told me." He got her a glass and poured a sensible measure over a couple of ice cubes.

"Thanks." She couldn't believe she was relaxing, chatting with this stranger, this _vampire_ stranger, as if he were simply a mutual friend. "Janette told you a lot I guess."

"Only the essentials. You left Toronto for personal reasons and would rather decide for yourself who knows where you are. You're a 'prized' mortal, but more at home with us than with other mortals. No trouble, no threat, and no reason not to trust you. That's about it. Except for the fact that Janette said you'd be needing work sooner or later, and she told me what you do for her."

"So you own this place _and_ a club?"

"Somebody else owns the house. I just live here and keep an eye on things." He didn't say who owned it, so she didn't ask.

She sipped the bourbon, careful to pace it. He seemed okay, and Janette trusted him, but she didn't feel quite comfortable enough to risk getting drunk. "Tell me about your club."

"It's called Pulse, in the Kenmore Square club complex. Straight-up rock'n'roll." Maura smiled broadly. "You like that idea?"

"Well not that I haven't grown attached to Raven, and really I can work anywhere and love all sorts of music, but straight-up rock is really my style. I'd rather rock than angst. Heart, AC/DC, ZZ Top, Tom Petty, like that. Oh, and Tina."

Now he smiled again, and his teeth were of course snow-white and perfect. "Janette favors Goth, and Raven is fine for her niche. I prefer to play to a wider market. What?"

Maura was shaking her head, still smiling. "I'm sorry, it's just it's rare to speak to one of you guys who isn't all caught up in the 'scene', you know? Janette is really into her role as grande mysterious vampire dame. Maybe it's the French thing, or maybe it's just the way she's most comfortable. But the dungeon-bunny crowd can wear on you if you're an outsider. So _grim_ and _angst-y_. Gimme a leather-and-denim shot and beer crowd over the blood-wine black eyeliner bunch any day."

"It's where you came from, after all."

She nodded. "Fair enough. Is it a big place?"

"Entire first floor of the complex, with a loft out back for private parties." The last two words betrayed not a hint of the double entendre that dripped from Janette's identical utterance. "I'll bring you in tomorrow night."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Maura shifted uneasily. "New moon, and all. Not that I don't trust you, but why ask for trouble?" Now he was laughing out loud, a rich easy sound.

"Janette truly has ruined you for the outside world, hasn't she? I told you, we cater to a wider market."

"You mean, mortals?"

"Why not? There are more of them than us, so why not do business with them? Oh, the staff are vampires, and a core contingent of regulars, but it's not a vampire bar. Or a gay bar, or a straight bar, for that matter. Just a rock'n'roll club with _long term_ investment." They both smiled at that double entendre.

"But what about the staff? Do they uh, sample the clientele?"

His expression grew serious. "House rule, no feeding on customers. Oh, don't label me moral or ethical, it's just bad for business for customers to go missing, or hypnotized."

"Or perforated."

The smile returned. "Exactly. Like Janette and other ancients, I have more wealth than I can possibly use. But I find business to be a challenge to the wits and intellect. After 2000 years I find myself easily bored by the world. Keeping a 21st-century music club running in this economically volatile country is endlessly diverting."

She was beginning to like this Anton. "I'm a little out of practice with 'non niche' club security, but I'm sure it'll come back to me quick enough. Janette said you probably need someone."

"That's true, but not on the door or the floor. What I need right now is a vocalist for the house band."

"You do live music?" She was impressed. She figured it was too big a pain for a big club.

"Half and half, a d.j. to start the night and the band to finish."

"Well I'm sorry, Anton, but I'm a bouncer not a singer."

"Derek Littles told me differently."

She barked a laugh. The snaggle-toothed guitar playing bastard who led Raven's house band had had ratted her out. "So I guess it's true, you _do_ all know each other. Yeah, I did some throwaway stuff with Vamp, but nothing regular. And trust me, not all that impressive. I can carry a tune, but that's about it."

"Practice leads to improvement. And since you're changing most every aspect of your recent life, maybe it's time to change that too."

"You guys all have the gift of smooth talk, you know that?" He shrugged mildly.

"Centuries of practice." That phrase hit her hard, and it showed. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Uh, no. Just reminded me of someone." She finished her drink, and forced a smile. "Absent friend."

Anton nodded knowingly. Surely Janette had told him more than he let on, but he was one of the mannered ones, and didn't mention it. "You must be very tired. Let me show you your accommodations."

He took her bags and she followed him up a winding staircase to the third floor, and into a high-ceilinged whitewashed bedroom with pale oak wainscoting and ornate doorframes. The bed was a huge four-poster, and the other furnishings were comfortably upholstered in mauve and blue linen and velvet. It was a bright, airy room, even at night. She crossed to the open door of the walk-in closet. "This must be the guest room, huh?"

"Some of these 19th century brownstones have been horribly butchered and modernized. In my time I've decided it's more enjoyable to adapt to what you find, rather than vice versa."

She turned in a circle to take it all in. She'd become used to so much dark, blacks and deep crimsons, this was like breathing fresh air. "The blinds?" she asked.

"Blackout, of course," he touched a button on the nightstand and they slid into place behind the elegant curtains. "Your bathroom is through here," he opened another door and the white-and-black tiled bathroom was huge. Pedestal china sink, shining brass fixtures, and an enormous claw-footed bathtub with an old-fashioned circular curtained shower, fluffy white towels hanging everywhere.

"Wow. _Thanks_, Anton, really, I'm not sure why I deserve all this."

"Janette has instructed me that you are to be treated with every consideration of a member of our Community, and protected from any of its dangers."

"You mean the Enforcers."

He didn't react to the reference. "I mean any of its dangers. The kitchen is partially stocked with fruits and coffee for the morning. Vlad will take any list you make to the market, or take you there to do your own shopping."

Her eyebrows went up. "_Vlad_?"

A friendly laugh. He laughed a lot, and not sarcastically. A good sign. "Short for Vladmir. He is Russian, and quite mortal. He and his wife Majeska take care of the housekeeping, maintenance, other household and daytime tasks. They may be trusted as I am, and are as protected as you shall be."

She was setting her things out on the bed, when Anton concluded his "tour" by saying, "Sleep well, and as long as you like. No one will disturb you." Maura was beginning to notice a certain air that contrasted with his youthful appearance. He looked about her age, but had the grace and manners, not to mention the syntax, of an aristocratic elder. "Feel free to use the phone, there is a directory in the nightstand drawer."

"No Gideon Bible, I presume." She couldn't resist.

He shuddered and raised an eyebrow, "Janette warned me about your humor. No, Cherie, there is no bible to disturb either one of us."

She stopped him before he could leave. "Anton, can you do me a favor? When we're here, can you call me Maura?"

"Of course. I knew a fine Irish pirate by that name a long time ago... but that's a tale for another time. Sleep well."

"See you after sunset." Once he'd gone, she reached for the phone and dialed Raven, long since closed she knew. When the machine kicked on she said quietly, "Janette? Merci. Merci beaucoup. Tu es une amie pour les ages."

She changed for bed as the sun was rising. And, as she'd done every night for the past five weeks, she took the handwritten note from her wallet and looked at it as if it held some secret she'd yet to decipher. "'Toujours' isn't such a long time, is it Bats?" she asked the silence that surrounded her. Replacing the note she couldn't bring herself to throw away, she shut off the light and went to bed. And for the first and last time since that first morning she'd faced alone she cried herself to sleep, for what Nick had walked away from, and for what she was about to try to leave behind.

A week to the day after Maura arrived in Boston, Nick returned to Toronto. Six weeks of extended debate and travel, bound by LaCroix' strict rules, had settled their argument once and for all. True to form, LaCroix would remain in Toronto until he bored of his surroundings and playthings, but would cease his interference in Nick's life and leave Maura strictly alone. Nick remained unconvinced by his mentor's urging to rejoin the dark life he'd left behind, but the only way he could do so was to agree not to tell Maura where he was or how long he'd be gone. Knowing instinctively that this time LaCroix would keep his word, he had agreed reluctantly to the conditions. And equally reluctantly, LaCroix had been forced to acknowledge that it was far more than a new "pet" that had bound Nick to his Toronto incarnation. Her absence, he realized, would change nothing except to leave the way open for another to assume the same place in his life, sooner or later. While not conceding defeat, he accepted a change in dynamic.

"You're right, of course, we'll never really be shed of one another," Nick told him, "why can't we just ratchet down the dysfunction? Why does it have to be this hard?" That, finally, was a question LaCroix could not answer.

As Nick left Maura in the Caddy that night, LaCroix had proposed a final test. "If I'm to believe you are completely committed to this new existence, and not simply held in check by an infatuation with this pet of yours, you must prove it to me by risking her loss."

"Why should I have to _prove _anything at all to you, LaCroix?"

"Because you know I'll never leave you in peace until you do." He was absolutely secure in his knowledge that, free from the enticements of his prized pet mortal, Nicolas would be more easily prised from this newest role-play. This was the first time in 800 years that Nicolas seemed to _believe_ fully in the reality of the part he played.

"How do I know you'll hold up your end of the bargain?"

"Because, dear Nicholas, I don't _have_ to lie, do I?"

And so Nick had flown to Nero the botanist and taken the rose, returned to the loft and left it with the note. He made the necessary calls to his attorney, and to the precinct. Lies came easily to him, they always had when he had an agenda in mind. That they'd be revealed as in mere hours didn't bother him. How Maura would be affected bothered him a great deal. She'd been betrayed so many times, and he had sworn she had seen the last of them, but this one last transgression would free him forever and he would make it up to her, many times over. If she would permit it.

"She is gone, Nicolas." Janette had greeted him with little fanfare, but then this separation was a minor one relative to those in the past. The chill in her voice didn't register at first.

"Gone where?"

"'_Gone where_'?" she mimicked. "Gone _away_, Nicolas, she tired of waiting and wondering what had become of you once your solicitor had made it plain it could be sooner, or later, or _jamais_. Did you really expect her to live in your apartment, spend your money, go on as if nothing were different, so you and LaCroix could pursue yet another chapter in your family drama?" She didn't bother to hide her displeasure. "_You_ wanted to bond with a mortal, Nicolas, and from the start she has had to play by _our_ rules. Perhaps she is tired of the game."

"It's no game to me, Janette. I did all this so we LaCroix would leave us alone once and for all." Nick's voice was tight and low. "You know where she is."

"She does not want you to find her." A small lie, and no sense letting him believe otherwise yet.

His anger rising, Nick warned, "We are old friends, you and I, but don't try me."

She was unimpressed. "And you do not 'try' me, Nicolas. I know too well how it feels to be forced into the shape of someone else's life, to trade some of yourself for what you crave so badly. Perhaps I have enough memory of my life as a mortal woman to think as a woman _first_. Yes I know where Maura has gone. If you want to find her, you must do it yourself. If you are as bound to her as you claim, it should come naturally."

He could force the information from her, take it in a harsh bite and swallow, but both knew that would rupture their connection forever.

"If you talk to her, Janette," there was an edge of desperate need in his voice, and even Janette in her disapproval could not ignore it. "Tell her I'm back. Tell her I'll find her."

"Tell her you're 'sorry'?" In spite of her shreds of sympathy, Janette had as little patience as Maura did with Nick's chronic regrets. Better to think in advance, and avoid them altogether.

"That would just make it worse," he admitted.

"Then perhaps I should tell her you _love _her," and the sentiment dripped ice water. He answered with fire, gripping her wrist and replying in the deceptively gentle dangerous tone that caught everyone's attention whenever he used it. "She knows that." He threw her hand away. "Never mind. You're right, I'll deal with this on my own."

He returned to the loft, needing some time alone before dealing with the mess of questions he'd left behind at work. Maura had left things neat and tidy, painfully so. No flung-open closets or sprung hangers, no farewell poison slashed on the mirror in lipstick. The bottles were neatly lined in the fridge, his delivery having been made at the beginning of the week as scheduled. The box of vials of the "thermostat potion" were still stacked in orderly fashion in an adjacent cupboard. She'd even left the rose where he'd laid it on the table by the door, but the note was gone. Maybe she threw it away. Outside the sun was rising; he slid the blinds shut and trudged upstairs to the bedroom and into his dressing room to change for bed. There, on the hook inside the door, hung the kimono he'd had made in Sapporo for Maura, the one he'd given her for Christmas, the night they'd first summoned the courage to make love. The night s_he'd _summoned the courage for both of them, he corrected himself. By her "rules", at last. Janette was right, of course, every concession had been made from Maura's side, every lapse was his to be forgiven by her. There had only been a few, but all deep and painful. He ran his hand along the velvet and fur of the sleeve, fingers straying inside to the ripple cut silk velvet, trying to remember how it felt warmed by her. He raised the sleeve and pressed it to his face, closing his eyes. Her fragrance remained, honeysuckle and amber. Where would she go, he wondered, to escape the knowledge of this final abandonment? After finally making a home and the life she loved, where would she go not simply to forget it, but to replace it? With Janette and the others (he hadn't missed the cold looks from Miklos and Vachon at the club) on her side she no longer needed the protection of anonymous strangers, no longer needed to trade herself for safety. Now when she left it wasn't in search of refuge, but to start a new life for herself, alone. Where things felt easy and familiar. His eyes shut tighter and he concentrated the power he hadn't visited until his travels with LaCroix these past weeks.

In a strange sense he felt grateful to LaCroix, once mentor and later nemesis, for having forced him to confront what had clearly been his own half-commitment to his life and love. What had been assumptions – he assumed his inner doubts were calming down, he assumed Maura's was the only human blood he cared to taste, he assumed his existence with her paled all those previous by comparison – had crystallized to utter certainty in this past month and a half. In no time at all he had become terribly homesick, not just for his job and friends but for Maura and their life together. No cheerfully willing vampire whores or eternal nights at the opera or flights over moonlit landscapes in search of virgins (for LaCroix, who was still sentimental in his tastes) or a butcher (for Nick, who steadfastly refused all but cow's blood) could distract him from what became a physical longing for _home _in every meaning of the word. And nothing at all could distract him from the strain he felt in his connection with Maura, her pain and confusion came to him with increasing power through his one-way blood connection, as if someone were turning up the volume on a distant radio. He supposed now he'd known when she'd left, there was a drop in feeling, a sudden sense of loss. He tried to ignore it, and was ashamed to say it got easier as the days progressed, but now he was back and needed to put it all together, knowing he'd never put it all behind him.

He decided not to call Natalie but to go straight to the lab before work. He wasn't sure what to expect other than anger and hurt feelings. Even so, he didn't expect the deep freeze that confronted him.

"Well, well, the prodigal vampire returns. I hope you're not expecting confetti." She hadn't even risen from her stool at the microscope bench. "Have a nice vacation with your buddy? Bet you found home nice and peaceful, huh?"

Nick was taken aback. He knew it was unreasonable to expect her to leap up and kiss him, but her attitude bordered on open hostility.

"It was complicated. LaCroix,"

"Yeah, Nick I heard all about LaCroix. Maura told me. She told me how he as good as announced to her his plan to call you away, just a minute before he did it. She told me she _begged_ you just once to stop trying to be Mr. _Nice_ Guy and let the past be past. No matter how much you claim to love mortality, you'll always turn away in a mortal heartbeat at your master's call."

"He's not my master."

Natalie laughed out loud. "Not _much_. You traipsed off into the night and left behind everyone you claim to care about, every part of the life you swear you want to keep. You walked out on possibly the best thing you ever accidentally stumbled into. You left us all as if we were an afterthought, and for what? Let me guess, to figure out where you _reall_y belong, am I right?"

By now he was scowling. "Not entirely. LaCroix told me he would stop interfering if I could prove to him that my commitment to this incarnation was more than an attachment to a 'prized' mortal. To do that, I had to walk away without explanation, risk losing her, losing all of it."

Now Natalie jumped from her stool, _leaped_ from it, to shout in Nick's face. "How fucking _dare_ you! We're human beings, Nicholas, the people who _trust_ you, who have forgiven your every stubbornly stupid error in judgment regarding us, and still you use us as leverage to prove a point to that asshole LaCroix!"

He'd never heard her swear like that, like a sailor, like... Maura when she was enraged. "Natalie, I don't expect you to understand." It was all he could tell her, there honestly _was_ no way she could understand the prospect of ending 800 years of perpetual harassment and torment.

"You'd better not expect anyone else to, either. Y'know, I used to envy Maura's relationship with you. I thought, if only it were me, all of your doubts would be erased and it would be happy ever after." Another explosive laugh as Nick shifted uncomfortably at her candor. "Well experience is a harsh teacher. I don't have Maura's patience or forgiving heart, and if it _had_ been me you'd have been found smouldering in the sunshine by now with a stake through your chest." She paused for a moment, trying to think of something else evil to say. "God Nick, you are such an ASSHOLE sometimes!"

He blinked at her, stunned. "I don't suppose you know,"

"As a matter of fact, I do. But the only way you'll get it from me is through the jugular."

"Well I guess I'll just go to work then." He felt pretty lame, but what else was there to do? He'd incinerated more bridges than he'd imagined, though he was realizing how stupid he'd been not to have foreseen it.

"Don't let the lab door hit you in the ass. And _don't_ expect to have it easier from Schanke. He's not thrilled to have been left holding the bag at the precinct, and he and Myra put in some serious time with Maura after she got those letters from your lawyer. Oh, that reminds me," she got the envelope from her desk drawer where she'd stashed it since Maura had given it to her. "She doesn't want your self-redemptive charity."

He peered in the envelope, shaking his head. How could he have misread everything so completely? "I was only trying to,"

"'_Do the right thing_'? Well let me tell you your little gesture of half-hearted responsibility made things a lot harder for her. She said seeing her name on all your stuff like that made it feel like you were married now, but only because you'd gone. We both agreed it is pretty sick."

His face a too-familiar mask of guilt, Nick tucked the envelope in his jacket and turned to leave. Natalie tried to let him go in silence, but couldn't.

"Nick." All the vitriol was drained from her voice as she spoke his name, and he turned as if expecting a blow. "You're my best friend. You will always _be_ my best friend, saint or screwup, and I will always, always love you. But I gotta tell you, it's gonna take a while for me to like you again."

"Understood. I'll be in touch."

Natalie had been right about Schanke.

"You should know you finally score lower than me with the women in this precinct," he informed Nick once they got back to work.

"A moment to cherish." Nick hadn't had much to say, fielding the looks and forced smiles stoically.

The captain's greeting was closer to neutral, but as his commander she was unimpressed with his behavior from a professional standpoint. "Glad you made it back, detective. You were dangerously close to AWOL. Schanke will catch you up."

And oh, how he had. Before hearing about the cases in process, Nick got chapter and verse of the riot act, every conversation and despairing unanswerable question Maura had uttered since he'd left. After five or ten minutes, Schanke ran out of steam.

"If you'd tell me what you're waiting to hear, maybe I could come up with something," Nick told him.

"Hell, I dunno, man!" Schanke gestured in frustration. "We've been partners for years, I may not know what goes on in your head but I know how you act, and this just wasn't the Nick Knight I know. He doesn't slap down the people that care about him without a backward glance. But I guess I can't say that anymore, can I?"

"If I could explain, I would. I can't."

"Not even to her?"

Nick sighed. "Think I could get her to listen?"

"I can't believe I'm saying it, but you probably could. _If_ you can find her. And no I don't know where she's gone, she was afraid I'd tell you so she kept me in the dark." The bereft look on his partner's face got to Schanke. He couldn't even guess why Nick would hurt Maura so badly; it was probably the stupidest thing Schanke had ever known him to do. But for all of that , it was clear Nick was desperate to find her. What he'd say and how he'd put things back together who knew, the only question he _didn't_ have was whether or not Knight was still crazy in love with her. Though how someone crazy in love could cause so much damage... well they'd both seen plenty of things on the job to make them question human behavior. And he seemed even _more_ crazy for her than before, if such a thing was possible.

"Look partner, I'm not saying I understand what you did. I'm not saying I don't want to join the line of people dying to kick your ass. And I'm not saying you don't deserve whatever workover Maura puts you through when you _do_ find her. But in spite of it all I don't think the door is closed. Not locked, anyway."

Cautious optimism. "What does that mean?"

"It means when she came to say goodbye she told me if you want to find her again you're gonna have to 'work for it'. That means she didn't tell anyone where she was gonna be."

"Oh, she told someone. She told Natalie. And Janette knows, she helped her on her way. But they're not telling."

"Women stick together," and now Schanke clapped a sympathetic hand on Nick's shoulder, much to the latter's relief. Schanke noticed the look. "Hey there's nothing I can say to you that somebody else hasn't said, and that you won't hear in spades later. I like Maura, a lot. So does Myra, who by the way wants to geld you right now. But I've seen the change in you since you two got together, even if you haven't spilled your guts about it. It's written all over you. And speaking as someone trapped with you every day, I do _not_ wanna see the black clouds return. So anything I can do to help..."

"Thanks, Schank. It's more than I deserve."

"You got that right. But partners are partners, right?"

He knew where she'd gone, and it didn't take vampire powers or even detective work to figure it out. Getting more time off was a little more difficult, until Schanke reminded him of the detective exchange program.

"Detective Knight, you've used up every sick day, vacation day, and comp day imaginable. What could possibly induce me to give you more time away from the precinct? Not that I'm entirely unsympathetic, but after all _you_ left first. I can't blame your lady friend for not hanging around."

"Captain, there's an exchange program coming up, you posted it last month. Looking for detectives to swap with American police precincts, to share ideas and cross-train for international co-operation. Boston is one of the cities, and I happen to know that you've had no accepted takers." Happened to know, because he sweet-talked Gloria in personnel (the one coworker young and naïve enough not hate his guts right now) into giving him information on all of the applicants. Who happened to have been turned down for lack of experience or unproven performance.

"Boston isn't the only city on the list, detective."

"Captain, please." Nick gave up the pretense of detachment. "Look I know it's not the concern of Metro, but I'm pretty certain Maura's in Boston. I know I can't get more time off, but I know I qualify for the exchange. I just didn't apply before because,"

"Because there was no compelling reason to go to Boston." He didn't dare respond. "All right, detective. It's not as if you are unqualified, or have nothing to contribute. But I'm warning you, work has to come first. As for the rest... I wish you luck. But that's all I can offer. See human resources for the guidelines and forms."


	3. Chapter 3

The real estate agent he'd contacted found him an upscale furnished loft in a recently converted warehouse near the market district, with an at-will arrangement. He thought it might be difficult to fulfill his particular requirements for out-of-the-way location, private parking, private entrance, and light-tight blinds, and was prepared to dance around any awkward questions. He needn't have worried; apparently in this city there was something for every taste, and the agent barely batted an eye. "How about soundproofing, Mr. Knight?"

"Thanks, that won't be necessary," and the raised eyebrow that this elicited was the only surprise evident on the part of the agent. What _did_ people do in their off time around here, Nick wondered. It took only a few hours and three visits to different prospects to settle on his new home-away-from-home. Even his payment in cash, which Nick was sure would lead to suspicion, failed to raise another eyebrow. He was handed a receipt, a handshake, and "Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Knight. If you require anything else, let us know."

As he got his stuff sorted out, Nick smiled in amusement at the bedroom decor. Platform bed centrally located, internal speaker system with input ports near the head of the bed. What made him laugh, though, was the assortment of heavy-duty polished chrome rings and hooks mounted in the ceiling over the bed. "Must've replaced the mirrors," he mused as he unpacked.

The precinct where Nick was assigned worked out of the waterfront district, which made him feel quite at home. Every waterfront district in every city, in every country, sheltered the same type of criminal activity. Drugs, hookers, smuggling, dumping of victims who'd been done elsewhere. His new coworkers were a bit wary of the newcomer on the night shift, a tight knit bunch much like he was part of back home. Not one to try too hard to fit in , he took it all as it came. One thing he noticed was that nearly everyone had either an Irish or a Latino surname, even the black cops. Captain O'Malley was a balding, beefy 20-year veteran whose appearance and straightforward manner reminded Nick of his former captain Stonetree.

"You'll come to uniform roll call and do ride-alongs the first two-three days, Knight, to give you a feel for the area. Then you'll get a partner to bring you up to speed on cases, and then we can just turn you loose. Sound good?"

"Sure, Captain, I'm here to learn. Whatever you can tell me about the business on this side of the border can only be a plus."

"You do any homework? About the BPD I mean."

"Well, some. I understand you've had an, ah, problematic history at times."

O'Malley laughed out loud. "They sure train you polite up north. Well without the frilly manners, this department has been a rat's nest for every take artist and backdoor deal maker you can name. We're still having to clean up after the last commissioner, who was on the payroll of too many connected city councilors and drug dealers. The new commissioner, he's been in place a year now and clean as the pope, but the public has a long memory and so do the crooks. So if you've ever been tempted by a little extra cash on the side, turn your ass around and go back to Toronto and save IAD the trouble of busting you."

Nick smiled. "No offense, captain, and not that it doesn't happen there too, but I think things have been a little less colorful in that respect where I've been working."

"Toronto, huh? Big city, bigger than Boston I think."

"Well people kill each other the same way there as here, only less frequently."

The captain rolled his eyes. "You got _that _right. I think we got more street gangs too, but we have a separate task force for that, and sex crimes too." He caught Nick's look. "Yeah, detective, we got so much ugly here they get to specialize. Maybe people are right and Americans are less civilized than our northern neighbors. I don't get paid to figure out why, I just do cleanup."

"Well in that we're about the same. Point me somewhere and let's get started."

Maura had felt a little edgy all day. She and the band rehearsed a couple of new numbers, but she couldn't seem to concentrate. "Hey Loony," Robyn's play on her stage name, "maybe we need to let this go until you can focus. You're a little spacey today."

"Sorry, really. I don't know what it is with me tonight." She'd settled in pretty well at the club, and had replaced someone named Mariah with little fuss. Since the band was changing their set lists anyway, there were no awkward adjustments in arrangements. They worked quite well together and got along fine, not much caring that Maura didn't rival Tina Turner. "This is rock'n'roll, not opera!" Robyn the frontman declared. The guys, Robyn on keyboards and synthesizer and also the main arranger, Sage the sometime bouncer on lead guitar, Rory on bass, and Luc on drums, were rather taken with having a mortal bandmate. It was only a week after her arrival in Boston, but the solid following the original lineup had developed seemed to transfer easily to the newcomer and new material. For the first time in her life, Maura felt stable and safe on her own. She still lived in Anton's house, but the arrangement was more convenient than protective; she paid him rent and cooked for herself. The one new moon she'd spent in town she had few worries for her safety, as an accepted member of the Community by way of Janette's influence she had little to fear from outsiders. Still, she didn't feel dependent.

"Reliance and dependency are two very different things," Anton had told her. "You might rely on your friends if you need help, but depend on yourself for everything else." It was a new and welcome feeling. Still, certain songs raised strong emotions, particularly the love songs that she was occasionally urged to sing to accommodate slow dancers.

"I heard the one you wrote with Derek, he sent a tape," Robyn tried to persuade her. "Valentine's Day is coming next week, it'll be a killer."

She was adamant, she would never sing that one, ever. "It's just no good here, I can't explain it." Derek hadn't filled anyone in on her personal business, so she had to accept the reputation for being stubborn.

Valentine's Day, shit. She never quite managed to put Nick completely out of her head, though it was getting marginally easier to get to sleep by sunrise, sometimes earlier. She'd hoped to leave the longing behind in Toronto but knew that after one week or five or ten it would be impossible. She was unable to shake the physical sense of loss, even when fully engaged in her new life, as if some vital organ or limb were gone and the phantom sensations wouldn't let her be. It had been almost two months now. Even as she ran from Toronto, the willful contrary part of her was hurt that he didn't follow. He must have returned home by now. Who was she kidding, the link that bound her to him would never let up until one of them was dead. She'd just learn to live with it, as she'd learned to live with far more traumatic things in the past. But as reliance was different than dependence, missing was different than gone. "Gone" wouldn't get a second thought. "Missing" was a constant companion. Shit. She'd never be shed of him, even if he were completely shed of her.

"Yeah Rob, sorry. Better call it a night." The club was closed, Sundays being less popular with mainstream customers than their dungeon-bunny counterparts.

"I'll give you a lift," Sage offered.

"Nah, I'll walk. It's not far, and it's not all that bitter tonight." It had been a warm February so far, and Maura enjoyed the twenty-minute walk from the Fenway to Anton's brownstone. The route was well-lit by the quaint gaslights along the way, and she'd never had a problem at this hour. The freaks and weirdos were all down for the count by 3am, with their drugs and fetishes to keep them warm. Tonight, though, something had her looking over her shoulder every few blocks. "Hey, someone there? Guaranteed I've seen worse than you." Suddenly she felt she was looking in the wrong direction, and stopped cold in the middle of the street. "Nick?" she barely whispered, looking straight up into the stars. Hovering just out of sight, it was all he could do to keep from replying. Maura shook her head to clear it, and continued home.

Anton was shutting the blinds for the coming day when she let herself in. "Hey," she greeted him but didn't pause before heading upstairs.

"Practice go okay?"

She stopped and shrugged. "Not so hot. I wasn't really on the mark tonight."

"You've been adjusting fast to a lot of new things. Maybe you're rushing." She'd never known such an in-tune vampire.

"Yeah, yeah, well unlike some I don't have a couple millennia to get it together."

Anton smiled good-naturedly. "Get some sleep Maura, your bitch is coming out."

"Well yours is going to bed, see ya tomorrow night."

By the time she got to her room she was completely drained, not even bothering to put her clothes away before she crawled into bed after looking at the carefully preserved note in her wallet. She supposed it was her fault for keeping it, but even in sleep she couldn't escape; Nick filled her dreams. Maybe he did it on purpose, LaCroix having schooled him in all things, but he didn't talk to her as his teacher had on the occasions he'd invaded her sleep. Just replays. "Just". She woke next day on the edge of tears.

Valentine's night at Pulse was as different from Raven as night from day. At Raven, S&M was the theme. Here it was hearts and champagne and roses everywhere. The Vie sans Fin rose Maura found outside her door before leaving for work brought an ache and a smile at the same time. The last time she'd gotten one was... never mind. Anton must have left it for her, without a note. She pinned it to her burgundy velvet pullover (paired tonight with tight black jeans and high red boots, Valentine's rock-chic) and an exquisite ruby cabochon heart surrounded with finely wrought silver roses on a delicate silver chain. That necklace had arrived in the mail last week, return address Toronto. Janette and the crew at the Raven, she assumed. Her hands and wrists were decked with garnet and ruby jewelry she'd collected over the years. She'd left all the others, gifts from Nick, back in the Toronto in the rosewood box he'd given her for her birthday. She could walk away too, she'd declared to herself at the time. Yeah, right. She thought of the note in her wallet as she picked up her purse to leave. She was a living connection to Nicolas de Brabant Knight, and there wasn't a goddamn thing she could do about that other than die.

"So got any plans for tomorrow, Nick? 'Special lady' to wine and dine?" Brian Murphy was Nick's assigned partner now that he'd gone through the initial orientation. Married, mid-30's, two daughters in junior high school, his wife Melissa was a born matchmaker like half the people Nick knew back home. As some of the squad had the next two nights off, romantic plans were being made both around him and for him, at least in theory.

"Hey, I've only been in town a couple weeks. Thanks for the compliment, but I don't work _that_ fast. Quiet night at home with the stereo and a glass of wine." He'd found that getting a steady supply of cow's blood was even easier here than back home. And it seemed the local merchants had been aware of some "exotic" personal habits of the former tenant of Nick's loft, so nothing seemed to garner attention.

"Like the song goes. 'Full Moon, and Empty Arms'." Murphy was a piano fan.

"Yeah, well, I get by. You and your family have a great time at dinner." Brian was taking "his ladies" for a special night out. "Sure you won't join us? Missy and the girls have been dying to meet the new kid on the block."

"No thanks, really. Some other time when it's not a special occasion, okay?"

"Okay, have it your way. Stay home and brood. I get the feeling you like it better that way anyway." He laughed and clapped Nick on the shoulder. Was he that easily read, he wondered.

Nick really had intended to stay in, as he usually did, on a Friday night some weeks later, listen to the radio in the blessed absence of the draw to CERK and the Night Crawler. He randomly pressed the search' button and it landed on a local rock station broadcasting live from a downtown club. He wasn't really paying much attention as he settled on the leather sofa, feet up on the glass coffee table and glass of blood in hand as he perused the city paper. It was the tail end of an edgy song, and something about the female lead singer's voice pushed a button in Nick. When the last chord faded to applause, he was nailed where he sat.

"Hey thanks guys, I'm still new in town but it's nice to be appreciated. Let's kick a little more butt before we collapse in a pool of sweat for a little break..." and even as he admitted to recognizing the voice, he also recognized the band launch the opening riffs of Fire Down Below. Nah, couldn't be. He knew she worked in a Kenmore club but figured it was security, as always. She was way too shy about her voice to front full time for a house band. But when the first lines blasted out, he sat up straighter. "Shit." It was her. He'd followed her home once or twice from work, hovering out of sight, just to see her. Just to be nearby. She was doing pretty well considering he'd treated her like last week's trash, and since he'd drawn the line at the occasional "fly by" he had no idea how she re-read his parting words every night, no idea how the abandonment still defined her life. Janette had refused to tell him anything, even after he'd found out where she lived.

"Nicolas, you set this in motion and you must catch up to it on your own. You have found her, as you said you would. Now you must decide what to do."

"Janette, you know her."

"But I do not love her, Nicolas, you do. What I think is of no importance and cannot help you decide what to do. You can have any answer you want, if only you will listen."

That had been nearly a month ago, and he'd managed nothing more than his furtive surveillance on one or two occasions. Hearing Maura's voice, though, kicked something into gear. He came here not just to "find" her but to _see_ her, to try to put their life back together. So Nick drained his glass, got up and went out to the club. Blue jeans, grey cowl-neck sweater, brown leather bomber jacket and boots. He'd affected the local style, letting his beard grow out a little beyond the stylish dusting stage, because his sharp-dressed man stuff stood out like a sore thumb in Boston. Working-class scruffy seemed to work well here. He didn't give up the shades at night though. He hailed a cab, deciding the Caddy would be too conspicuous in the club parking lot.

To celebrate a special "Welcome Spring" night the band had the whole stage all night long, which meant they'd had to work up a monstrous set list, just about everything they knew plus a bunch of new material. They even threw in a disco set, which was the groundwork for an upcoming 70's night that Anton had in the works. He was a sharp businessman, was Anton, and kept every single lesson he'd learned about human nature in 2000 years.

Halfway through their version of Tragedy, arranged to the split second for laser and pyrotechnics, Maura almost lost the beat. Something like an electric shock ran through her, and she even stepped back from the mike, shooting a glance at Robyn who was directing this particular spectacle. His return look said "Huh?" so she just went on. By the time the song, and the set, was finished she saw Anton beckoning her from the edge of the bandstand.

"There's some guy here looking for you. Nobody I've seen, said his name is Nick and you know him. He okay?"

She looked to the main entrance and saw Lily and Rafe, two of the vampire bouncers, holding someone at the door. It didn't take more than a glance to tell who it was. She gulped. "Yeah, Anton, he's okay."

"But you came to town to get away from some guy. Is this him?"

"Yeah, but don't worry. He'd never hurt me, not in the _physical_ sense anyway."

Sage overheard, and chimed in. "Yeah, well if he gives you any trouble just give the sign and we'll take care of him."

"He's one of you."

"I don't give a shit." Anton's expression said he didn't , either. Boston was Boston, mortal or im.

Maura smiled and patted his arm. "Thanks, o guardian demons. You'll be the first to know."

Anton gave a wave to Lily and she had a word with Rafe. They stepped back and Nick ventured into the club.

When Maura approached Nick halfway along the side bar, they both just stood and stared for a moment. The working-class look suited him, she noticed, the GQ-pseudo shadow beard replaced by the real thing, not too thick but not that "stylish garnish" as she used to call it. Between that and the jeans and beat-up leather and very un-tailored sweater open at the throat (finally!) Maura though my god, this is how he was born to look. But then she'd thought that a million other times too. He looked so good her stomach hurt.

"I like your hair, it's hot," he told her, admiring the wide blonde streaks she'd added to the long shiny red he already loved, but managing not to reach out and touch it. Hot? He'd never used that word with her. He was picking up on the local lexicon.

"Yeah, well, you're looking pretty natural yourself." After another minute she shook her head. "I don't know what to do. Do I say thanks for finally penciling me into your life, do I jump into your arms and make a scene for the customers..." her voice flattened, "Or do I reach for the nearest sharp stick. Because believe me, I'm right on the fence."

He didn't quite smile, didn't quite frown. "Do I get a vote?"

The turmoil she'd tamped down for so long was starting to bubble. "I'd say not."

The look on his face, indefinable by mere words, caused her a physical pain. She really wasn't enjoying this.

"Can we at least not pretend to be strangers?" he requested. The noise of the night whirled around them but it was as if they were in a glass cube.

"I'm not sure we're not," she answered honestly. Now he took a step closer, reached a hand to her cheek.

"Please don't say that. I wanna hear everything you need to say, but not that." When she looked him hard in the eye the hand withdrew.

So she said nothing, staring at the floor, waiting for the echo of his fingers to leave her face. "I'm no good at this, Nick, you're the master of angst."

And he was gone, just for a moment, and returned after whispering something in the D.J.'s ear. Alexa was her name, and like all of the staff she was a vampire, and knew Nick's nature the minute he'd walked in. She also knew there was something here that none of them were privy to. She cued up the song he requested, a smooth disco number with very meaningful lyrics, 70's style shit about a man who'd lost it all.

When Maura recognized the lead-in, she tried to turn away. "_Jesus_, Nick." He stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Dance, lady?" only this time he sounded like a hopeful prom date and not the noir seducer. He added, "I know you remember that, at least." He moved to the dance floor and she was completely unable to do anything else but join him and take the hand he extended, the other hand on his shoulder as they found the rhythm.

Then they started moving together, really moving, complex and fluid, anticipating every move so they fit together. She closed her eyes, never missing a beat and losing herself in the music and the movement of their bodies in perfect tandem. As always. "Look at me," he told her when he pulled her against him for a cadence of two heartbeats, and she did, sideways, cheek-to-cheek, and what she saw was sorrow beyond "I'm sorry", which would merely have angered her more. What she saw wasn't apology but something different she couldn't name, different because she knew in that moment that even had he known what would happen he still would have walked off with LaCroix that night.

"Do you believe I love you?" A question so direct there was no clever reply to be had so Maura responded with a directness of her own.

"Do you believe my life turned to hell when I thought you'd gone for good?" They were standing still now, oblivious to the dancers around them. Nick's response was to kiss her, hard. She tried to break away but his immortal strength held her like a vise. When at last he let her breathe he told her fiercely, "I believe that. Everything else we can talk about, everything else is negotiable. But _I_ _love you_, and that is the reality that the universe has to be based on."

Maura shook her head and Nick allowed her now to shove her way out of his grasp and flee the dance floor as he followed close behind. Anton was there in a heartbeat to stand between them.

"I think she's had enough reunion for now." Nick tried to move past but was stopped by a hand on his chest. "My club, my rules. Leave her alone, you've been pretty good at that so far." Maura was startled to see Nick's face transformed into a feral snarl as he pushed back with a hiss.

"_Our_ issue," he glowered.

"_Stop_ this, both of you," Maura insisted. "I won't be the lame excuse for some immortal hissing contest. Anton, he's right. We may not be doing this very well, but it's our issue. If I need to get rid of him I'll do it myself, okay?"

He looked warily at Nick. "Your issue, but _my _club and I don't want you giving any other customers ideas that it's okay to manhandle the women here. You got that?"

Nick looked normal again. "Yeah, okay." But when Anton stepped back, Maura stepped up and slapped Nick across the face with enough force to snap his head back .

"Don't you _ever_ fucking hold me back like that again, goddamn you, you know better."

Nick fingered his jaw. "I earned that. Have you got it out of your system, or should I plan for another round later?"

"Assume nothing. I've learned not to."

Maura noticed Robyn waving at her from the stage. "Gotta go earn the rent. I'm off at 2."

"I'll be here."

"Well ain't that new and different."

"So everything cool?" Sage asked as he gave her a hand up onstage.

"Nothing I can't handle."

Luc smirked. "Yeah, right. Wonder Woman rides again."

"Fuck you, bongo boy."

Predictable as midnight (or 2am), Nick was waiting by the bar when the band had packed up. A couple of staff had tried to tell him it was past closing, but Anton indicated he was waiting for someone and was to be left alone.

"So." Maura dropped her bag on the bar and stood in front of Nick, who was looking a little uncertain. Good, she thought. Uncertain should be at the top of his list right now.

"So." He added the only honest thing there was to add. "What now?"

"You tell me." Shit, that was a lame dodge, she cringed inside at the cliché.

"I already did."

By now Anton had passed discreetly back and forth several times, not so much concerned about another confrontation as he was eager to lock up and get home before daylight trapped them all. On the fourth pass, still hearing nothing but not very clever monosyllabic verbal swordplay, he stopped in front of them.

"Look, I hate to interrupt this sophisticated debate, but I'd really like to call it a night. Maura, why don't you bring your whipping boy," she glared at that, but Anton could sense a bitch-slap festival coming as sure as sunrise, "back to the house. You two have a lot to talk about, no reason to stay on your feet."

"It's where she thinks best," Nick commented. Anton cocked an eyebrow at his courage. Maybe this guy was just a fuck-up and not an asshole.

"Look, I have a place near the waterfront, maybe it'd be more private, if you feel like dealing with any of this now. Your call."

She shook her head negative. Being alone with Nick now would be a mistake. She figured he understood that too, but was giving her a couple of options to let her know the ball was completely in her court.

"Nah, Anton's right. Let's go back home ('home', Nick found it hard to hear that word attached to somewhere he'd never been) and we'll see where else this can go tonight. No promises, though. If I start to flame up we'll let it go until later, okay?"

"Okay." Nick felt wildly grateful she wanted to talk at all, especially right after his abrupt reappearance. Then again, she knew by now vampires were all about 'abrupt'.

"We'll walk, if that's okay," Maura told Anton. He usually brought his car for the short trip because he was always ferrying stuff to the bar. His exotic top-shelf liquor collection was imported straight to the house.

They strolled a couple of blocks in silence, the neon of the square fading to gaslights and moon-scattered shadows from the trees lining the street.

"I shouldn't have belted you. That was totally wrong."

"Maybe, maybe not. Like the joke says, first you have to get his attention."

"I've always been good at that. I just don't seem to be very good at hanging onto it."

"Not true, Sweet." He hesitated. "Have I lost the right to call you that?"

She shook her head. "Probably not. Throwing something away isn't necessarily permanent. Some things you can pick up again."

"How many? All of them?"

Maura stopped short in the shadows between two gaslights a block from the house. "Look why don't we drop the metaphor okay? We both know we're good at them, but it gets old."

In spite of the situation, Nick smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that. Clever isn't my strong suit nowadays."

They continued to the door, and Maura let them in with her key. "Living room's through there. You need anything?" She knew Anton kept a supply of blood in a special fridge, but it was human. "All I got is O positive, sorry."

"No Chateau Moo du Pape?" She didn't respond to the reference so he let it drop. "That's okay, I'm fine for now."

She returned to the front room with a bottle of spring water, and sat in the chair opposite the sofa where Nick was perched.

"Talk to me, Bats. I already know what, you gotta tell me why."

So he did. He didn't apologize, he didn't dissemble, he told Maura the tale beginning to end of LaCroix's "sure thing" and how it turned out not to be. He told her what they'd done, what he didn't do, how sorely he was tempted to tell LaCroix to fuck off and return home, but in the end he knew the battle would never be over if he didn't do this one more thing.

"It wasn't about doing the right thing, not like you think. I started out to want to listen to LaCroix, but it was only because I thought he really meant what he said, one more conversation. I almost walked away when I knew what he really was after. But I also knew he was as good as his word this time, because he really believed he had me. I knew he'd back off if I went with him and proved him wrong. And I knew if I didn't, he'd never leave you alone. Not me, you. Because he thought everything I am and do was linked to you." He stopped then, waiting for a response.

"Why Nicolas, are you finally admitting that true love hasn't transformed you?" There was nothing of sarcasm in her voice, it was more a hint of amusement.

"Okay, okay. We both know I started on this path before I ever met you, a hundred years before. I just misread the signs and thought I'd wound up somewhere different than I was, I thought I was still on the road when I'd actually found a reason to stop moving on." He paused a little self-consciously. "Here I go with metaphor again… but I honestly had it figured out before LaCroix's proposal. You're not responsible for the life I have now, but what we have together is just one more thing that makes it worth hanging onto. All that remained was to convince him." He braced himself for her protest of one of the words she'd love to strike from his vocabulary.

"Well thank you jesus, you have fine tuned your need to convince." Nick wore a very Schanke-like look that said he had no idea how to take her. "I can't say I totally understand you not telling me, and I really can't say that I agree with any of it. For christsake, almost three millennia between you and you still act like adolescents high on testosterone. But I believe, I really do Bats, I believe that you felt truer than true it was the only thing to do, and that you weren't just doing it for yourself." She sighed though, and dropped her head in her hands. "I wish I could look at this as some sort of willing sacrifice on my part, even if I didn't know about it. I'm trying really hard to see it as being pushed out of the way of an oncoming truck, and getting very banged up in the process." When she looked him in the face again, her eyes were haunted. "I'm trying, but I can't. Not right now, anyway. I could tell you all about it, I could tell you about being reduced to begging people for information I knew they didn't have. I could admit that my fucking ego likely took a worse beating than my feelings. But you know all of that, you know it. How could you not? If you didn't you'd just have tracked down my phone number and called and said 'honey, I'm home'. I know this must have been hard for you, to come here and face me."

"Not as hard as you might think," Nick told her. "What else was there to do… I couldn't stay in Toronto without you, and I knew you wouldn't come back on your own. You're right, how could I not know the pain I was causing you? I think even if we weren't linked by blood, I'd have felt it anyway. But I couldn't change the course I'd taken without giving up everything, and that includes you. So for once I'm not here to beg forgiveness, to beat that old 's' word to death one more time. I'm here to tell you I made a decision based not on what I felt or believed, but what I know to be true. 800 years connected to someone leaves little room for illusion, Maura, and I had no illusions at all that LaCroix would hound you until you were forced to leave, and he still wouldn't have what he wanted."

She was shaking her head in exasperation. "No, goddammit, you just don't get it." Why couldn't he believe that LaCroix simply didn't register on her list of serious challenges?

He wasn't backing down this time. "No, Maura, it's you who don't get it. For all of your insight and empathy, for all of your experience with my kind, you are mortal. You – are – mortal. That means you really haven't a clue how powerful someone like LaCroix is, how many ways he can make you doubt yourself, doubt me, doubt your very life. He would simply outlast you. And even though you'd probably never do it for yourself, he'd convince to you leave for my sake. He'd find a way. LaCroix is not some con artist with a bag of magic tricks, Maura, he is immortal, and stronger and smarter and more cynical than you could be on your best day. You say you don't fear him, well you should. Your self-possession and quick wit may outmatch most mortals, but for most of my kind they're an entertainment, nothing more. LaCroix was already tiring of the game."

"But he knew if he killed me he'd lose you forever."

Nick's tone became very patient, as if he were explaining something complex to a child. "He doesn't have to kill you, Sweet. He can run you, without ever being able to hypnotize you or bring you over, he can run you from inside of your own mind. And nothing in the universe could have persuaded him not to use that power to separate us for good."

"Well if all that's true, how can you possibly believe he's going to back off? What could you possibly have told him that I didn't?"

"That what I am and how I exist now, for better or worse, come from my own design, not someone else's distraction."

Maura considered this for a few moments, staring at Nick, then at the floor, then out the window. He wasn't begging forgiveness, he wasn't admitting mistakes. The usual repertoire of confrontation had been completely abandoned, and it was confusing her. It began to sink in, more quickly and clearly than she was sure he expected. "So what you're telling me," she looked as if she couldn't quite believe she was saying the words, "is that it's kind of like the scene in the movie where the guy tells the crazy broad, 'go ahead and kill my fiancée, I still won't marry you'."

Nick tried not to laugh, but couldn't stop himself. "Yeah I guess that's about it. Once he believed that I wouldn't give up my life here no matter who was or wasn't living with me, he realized the game was up."

"Just like that. After 800 years, suddenly he sees the light."

"I guess it took that long to find the right approach."

Maura rose now and looked down at him. "Fucking hell, Just Nick, give me one good reason why I shouldn't stuff you full of garlic and shove you out the door at sunrise, just to be rid of your fucked up 'family'. Especially when you just told me in excruciating detail how life would just go merrily on if I left forever." She knew he had said no such thing but couldn't keep from playing the "boo hoo" card one last time.

He raised both eyebrows, smiled cluelessly. "I can't think of a single one. Except maybe you might want to see what happens next. I mean, where's your sense of adventure?"

He rose and took a step toward her, but she backed away. "Slow down. I have a lot of shit spinning in my head right now, and it needs to settle. Okay?"

He nodded, understanding, but reached a quick hand out to touch her face. "Okay. I don't want to suffocate you in an avalanche of logic, reasons, and metaphor. Not to mention film noir scenarios. Are you working tomorrow?"

"It's Saturday night, isn't it?"

"Do you think you can holster your weapon just for the next five minutes?"

He was right. "Yeah, I'm working."

"Mind if I come by?"

"Well I know I've been gone awhile, but I seem to remember it's a free country."

Nick rubbed his index finger between his closed eyes the way he always did when Schanke was trying his patience. Oops.

"Yeah, come by. I'll leave your name at the door.

She walked him to the front door where he turned to look at her, all playfulness gone. "I love you," he said simply, not touching her. She leaned forward and kissed him, soft but brief, one hand against his cheek.

"I love you too, Bats. Our cross to bear, I guess. Pardon the metaphor."

He gave a mock shudder. "You had to pick that one… see you tomorrow night."

Nick paused at the gate to look back at Maura a last time, and saw her watching him. They held each other's gaze a moment, saying nothing, and when he turned to go she watched him as he disappeared in the darkness.

"So, I didn't hear any evidence of fisticuffs."

She jumped a mile as she locked the door. Anton had appeared from nowhere and stood in the foyer, transparently curious.

"Jesus, Anton! I suppose you were spying on us, too?"

He drew himself to his full height, properly offended. "I did no such thing. I merely remained nearby in case my assistance was needed."

She smacked his arm. "Bullshit. You vampires are so full of bullshit! But as long as you were 'nearby'…" she paused uncertainly. Surely they'd gotten to know each other well enough for him to have an opinion even if he didn't know Nick, but she felt stupid asking. It required no special powers for him to guess the unspoken question.

"Well since you are almost asking me, I will almost tell you. You're a smart lady, sometimes too smart for your own good. Why don't you forget about teaching that immortal of yours a lesson, and concentrate on fixing what it was that got broken? Since by your own admission you'll be linked by blood forever, why not try to make the most of it?"

"Kind of like this house here, adapt to the structure instead of expecting it to adapt to you?"

"You're right. You are far to dependent upon metaphor. But that sounds like an accurate assessment."

Maura frowned as they approached the stairs. "I dunno, Anton, I've really come to doubt my judgment. Not Nick's intentions, but my own brainpower here. What if I'm totally wrong, what if we both are, and there's no way we can make this bizarro match work?"

Anton stopped short, blocking her path. "Wrong question. How about, do you want to risk being miserable by giving it another try, or walk away and make it a sure thing?"

She eyed him closely. "So where did you pick up _that _metaphor, huh?"

Anton shrugged, then smiled proudly. "Head croupier for Bugsy Siegel. Casinos are schools for life. Or one's approximation of it."

She couldn't stop laughing as they walked upstairs, but Maura took that lesson to heart. Bugsy may have wound up with sleeping with the fishes (she couldn't remember where he ended up actually, but extended the metaphor), but he was one shrewd dude. When she got to her room, she opened her wallet to look at Nick's well-creased goodbye note, hoping as always it would inspire her to some grand insight. She was surprised – but not surprised – to find a local phone number written at the bottom, in Nick's handwriting. When did he do that… shit, when did he do anything? Sometimes she'd give her right arm for even one of those magic powers. She thought for a moment, then smiled and shook her head. "Three months, and finally you give something up, you fancy-ass piece of paper…"

She reached for the phone and dialed. Not waiting for a greeting, she said "I hope you didn't find another roommate. I'm gonna be needing a place to stay when I blow this tourist town."


End file.
